


A Hundred Quid

by supercalvin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11947302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalvin/pseuds/supercalvin
Summary: There's a man sitting in Arthur's spot at the bar, talking to Lance. He's gorgeous, and just about everything Arthur finds attractive in a man. But when he turns around, Arthur's more than surprised at what he finds.





	A Hundred Quid

It was Friday night, and at Camelot University that meant everyone was in downtown stumbling from pub to pub to celebrate the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend. Arthur, who had just finished a grueling essay on the UK’s immigration policies, was celebrating with his mates. Currently, Leon and Elyan were playing billiards in the back (Elyan was winning and Leon was accusing him of cheating, which was probably true). Percival and Gwaine were playing darts (No one knew how Gwaine managed to throw straight, even when sloshed, but he always managed it). Arthur was coming back from the loo, to return to his conversation with Lance, when he realized his seat at the bar had been taken.

Lance obviously knew the man, because he was talking to him like they were old friends. (This wasn’t always easy to tell, because Lance was polite to everyone even if he didn’t like them). Arthur could tell they were friends because Lance appeared to be making fun of the man, poking him and laughing. From behind, Arthur could see the man had dark hair against pale skin, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Arthur traced the way his shirt clung to his back and his jeans formed over his ass. 

The man was talking in a deliciously low lilt, a touch of Welsh in his accent, as he told Lance about the brewery down the road. He played with the beading condensation along his glass. Arthur watched those long fingers and decided he didn’t care much about relaxing with his mates if he could pull this man.

Arthur leaned against the bar behind the stranger and looked across the way to Lance. When Lance raised his brows with a question, Arthur winked.

“You took my spot, mate.” Arthur smiled, waiting for the man to turn around.

Lance snorted at Arthur’s flirting attempts, but he wasn’t deterred. The man startled and turned around. He was more gorgeous than Arthur expected, with glass-cutting cheekbones and storm-blue eyes. For a second Arthur swallowed his own tongue, forgetting his line as the man looked him up and down. His brows were pinched and his eyes narrowed.

“…Arthur?” The man asked.

Shit. In his head, Arthur cursed a very long line of expletives. Did he know this man?

“Er… yes?” Arthur ignored Lance’s covered-up laugh.

“You’re Arthur Pendragon?” The man’s mouth opened with surprise, and it really wasn’t fair how distracting it was.

“Yes… Um. Do I know you? I mean we haven’t met before, have we?” Arthur felt his anxiety hike as he imagined the embarrassment of forgetting someone. He hoped he hadn’t drunkenly shagged this man and forgotten it. (The cruelty of having lost that memory would have been too much).

“You don’t recognize me?” The man frowned.

Arthur looked to Lance, who looked a little intrigued, so Arthur knew it wasn’t a prank. Lance, although sweet, was known for being a mischief-maker when he wanted to be.

Lance took pity because he nudged the man. “Come on, Merlin, don’t tease him. He’ll pout and I’ll have to deal with him all night.”

Arthur ignored Lance’s snide remark, because one thing caught his attention.

“Merlin” Arthur repeated. His mind flashed back to a skinny boy with ears too big for his head and skinnier than a piece of string. His mind’s eye saw a pair of silly glasses with mismatched clothes. There was a bright memory of summer: sweaty shirts as they ran through the park with a football, sticky little fingers as they munched on ice-lollies, and dirt all over their clothes because they had been chasing lizards.

“Merlin? Merlin Emerson?” Arthur gaped, looking at the man who looked nothing like his boyhood playmate.

Merlin smiled, and it all clicked into place, because that smile hadn’t changed a bit. It made his eyes turn into crescent moons and it made anyone on the receiving end want to smile back.

“Holy shit!” Arthur leaned forward and caught Merlin in a hug. Merlin laughed excitedly and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s shoulders before pulling back.

“Arthur! I can’t believe it’s you. I figured I never see you again!”

Arthur was still having a hard time equating the man in front of him (the desperately sexy man who Arthur still couldn’t shake his attraction for) with the skinny silly boy he had played with in his late years of boyhood.

“I’m guessing you two know each other?” Lance raised a brow, waiting for an explanation.

Merlin laughed, “We were mates in primary. God, we must have been nine?”

“We met when I was nine, you were eight. Remember, you had Mr. Muirden as a teacher and I had Ms. Helen?” The memories came back to Arthur in a second, nostalgia flooding all his senses. He could almost feel the playground grass under his feet and smell the sweets Mrs. Emerson baked.

“We were inseparable for years.” Merlin explained to Lance.

“You moved to Germany right before I turned 12.” Arthur said forlornly. He still remembered the ache in his chest when Merlin said he couldn’t go to the cinema for Arthur’s birthday. He gave Arthur a new football and said he was sorry it was early but by Arthur’s birthday, Merlin would already be in Germany, where his Dad had been restationed at the military base.

“When did you move back to the UK?” Arthur asked.

“Oh, we moved around a lot more. I managed to have my last year of secondary in Scotland and now I’m here.” Merlin made a motion with his hand to indicate Camelot.

By that time, they had attracted the attention of Arthur’s mates, who quickly crowded in to see what the fuss was about. Merlin, as talkative as he was as a child, greeted everyone and explained happily. Apparently he knew Lance from a few of their biology courses (and he also seemed to know Gwaine, claiming they met at a pub crawl a couple months ago. Knowing Gwaine, it was likely true.)

Apparently Merlin was studying Pre-Med, which explained why they had yet to run into each other, since Arthur was studying politics. From the way Merlin spoke, it was clear he was dedicated to his studies, and from Lance’s expressions, Arthur could he was better at it than he let on.

Merlin integrated into their group for the night, proving that he could not hold his liquor at all. (Gwaine shook his head, apparently having already known this fact. If it bothered Arthur that his friends knew things about this new Merlin that he didn’t, he tried not to let it show.) Arthur tried to talk to Merlin, but it was hard to have a conversation in a noisy pub, especially when a little bit more than tipsy. Plus, and this rankled Arthur, he wasn’t sure what to say. What did he know of this man? It had been eight years since he knew Merlin, and back then the only thing you needed to know about a person was whether or not they liked catching lizards and which film was their favorite.

But as the night grew on, Arthur knew one thing for certain. If Merlin had been a stranger, if he had just been a random bloke who had been talking to Lance, Arthur would still be attracted to him. He would still be one of the most gorgeous men Arthur had ever come across. Even after spending time with Merlin, listening to him talk and joke with Arthur’s mates, he knew if this was a stranger he would have been determined to ask him out.

But Merlin was not a stranger. Arthur still couldn’t forget the way Merlin cried when he fell off the playground and Arthur had told him to shut up, which made Merlin smack him. (Arthur deserved it, but it did make Merlin stop crying so he stood by his nine-year-old-self’s decision.) He still remembered Merlin’s silly glasses that he refused to wear most of the time, which meant he fell and tripped more often than not. Every time Arthur opened the front door of his Dad’s home, which was more like a mansion than a house, he remembered Merlin’s gob-smacked expression when Arthur had brought him home for the first time.

For the life of him, Arthur could not stop picturing Merlin as his younger best friend, because when you were only ten years old, one year of difference was a long time. Arthur had always thought of Merlin as his teeny tiny mate.

Now, as they all crowded around a booth, Merlin was drinking his third stout and laughing at one of Gwaine’s lewd stories. Arthur had heard this story before and usually nothing made him blush, but as Merlin made a bawdy comment, Arthur had to hold himself from covering his face with his hands. Because half of him screamed ‘No he’s innocent stop it’ while the other half was screaming that Merlin was probably the hottest thing Arthur had seen in years. Damn it, Merlin was his type and it was going to slowly kill him.

Arthur was going to need a few more beers to adjust to this. He got up from the booth to pay for his next drink.

*

Arthur woke up the next morning, already grumpy (but that wasn’t too unusual since Arthur hated mornings) and also slightly hungover. Eyes half-closed, he went into the kitchen to make some toast and tea. Going through the kitchen by feel alone, he rummaged around the fridge until he found an egg. He cracked it over a pan as he muttered to himself.

“He used to be tiny.” Arthur grumbled, rubbing his still sleep squinting eyes. “Wee little specs.” He flipped over his egg. “Skinny chicken legs.” Arthur slid the egg onto a plate, then salt and peppered it. “Grew into his ears though, Jesus.”

Arthur sat down with his egg and toast, grousing to himself about the curse that time had on all of them.

His phone buzzed on the table in front of him, and Arthur saw the message as it flashed across the screen.

Merlin: _If you’re free this weekend, I know a great café. We should catch up!_

“We most certainly should not. I’m having a crisis.” Arthur said to the phone, although he ended up typing back: _Sure! I’m free today if you like._

“Stupid.” Arthur muttered, munching the last of his toast. “God damn unacceptable situation.”

Merlin: _Perfect, here’s the address. How’s noon sound to you?_

“Horrendous.” Arthur groaned, looking at the clock and seeing it was ten o’clock in the morning. “Sorry, Merlin, I’m just so damn attracted to you that I may try to kiss you if we go to a cute little café. I’m so gay. So fucking gay.”

Arthur typed back, normal as could be: _Fine by me. See you then_

“I’m going to die.” Arthur let his head hit the table. Then he went to take a shower in order to negotiate with his cock about the nuisances and detriments of getting excited for Merlin.  If it didn’t work, then at least he tried.

*

Arthur had hoped his memories from the night before had exaggerated Merlin’s allure. Unfortunately he was wrong. Merlin was already at the café, with a thin black band t-shirt and dark framed glasses which weren’t nearly as dorky or silly as the ones he had as a boy. Arthur wobbled a little as he walked into the café, but he managed to greet Merlin with normal English words instead of gibberish.

After they made awkward small talk for ten minutes, Arthur did end up learning new things about Merlin. They talked a lot about their studies because it was one of the few things they actually knew they had in common after all these years. Merlin admitted to always wanting to be a doctor and Arthur admitted that he hated the political party his father vouched for. Then their conversation shifted to Arthur’s mates and how Merlin knew some of them.

Apparently Merlin was bisexual. Arthur’s little gay devil on his shoulder laughed maniacally. Apparently Merlin had a one-night-stand with Gwaine. Arthur may or may not want to murder Gwaine, which made Arthur wonder if he had a little gay angel on his shoulder or if he had quit a long time ago.

Merlin must have sensed Arthur’s unease, because he changed the subject and asked about Arthur’s family. What was Morgana up to? How was his father?

Arthur’s mind stumbled to a stop as he remembered those teenaged years where Morgana and Uther did nothing but argue. He remembered when Morgana moved out when she was seventeen. Arthur instead gave some kind of answer about how Morgana was now finishing the last years of studying law. He said his father was as hard-nosed as ever, which made Merlin laugh. Even back when they were kids Uther never softened his conservative opinion, whether Merlin was present or not.

Arthur in turn asked about Merlin’s parents, which he immediately regretted.

“Mum lives in Wales now. It’s a village called Ealdor, where my uncle lives.” Merlin looked down to his now-empty mug of coffee. “Da was killed in action two years ago.”

Arthur reached out without hesitation, taking Merlin’s hand with a tight grip. Balinor had been Merlin’s idol when they were kids. He had been a huge man with a booming voice, but when it came to Merlin he was as soft and cuddly as a teddy bear.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin wiped his eyes, though none of the tears forming in his eyes had fallen. He forced a smile, “Let’s not talk about it, yeah?”

“Of course,” Arthur whispered, “He was a good man.”

Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand, reminding him that he was still holding it. Arthur gently detached himself, clearing his throat. “Remember when we came back from the park covered in mud? Your Dad literally washed us down with the hose.”

“Clothes and all, I remember.” Merlin smiled, which prompted Arthur to talk more about their childhood. From one story to the next, they talked and talked about those days.

“Camelot was one of the happiest times of my childhood.” Merlin said after a while, his eyes looking out the window with his chin in his hand. “It was the longest we ever stayed in one place and I was able to actually make friends. When I thought of Camelot, I thought of you in your red Camelot Knights football jersey and the way I used to feel at home.”

Arthur had to look away. For a brief moment he wished this meeting in the café had gone wrong. He wished Merlin was a horrible person. He wished Merlin turned out to be an asshole. Instead Arthur had to temper down the feeling of adoration which swelled in his chest and the beginnings of what was surely to be the strongest longing he had ever had for someone.

“I missed you for ages when you moved away,” Arthur admitted. “I thought I would never have another friend like you.”

Merlin’s smile was crooked, “Well, here I am.”

“That you are.” Arthur tried to tell his racing heart to stop, but it refused to listen.

“I’ll get us another round of coffee, what do you say?” Merlin stood with the empty mugs, already standing before Arthur answered.

For a brief moment, Arthur dropped his head in his hands. He lectured himself on not falling head over heels for someone he had only known for a day. The gay devil on his shoulder whispered in his ears that Arthur had known Merlin for years.

Arthur really needed to hire a gay angel for his other shoulder before this got out of hand.

*

They didn’t see each other again for another few weeks. It wasn’t like Arthur expected them to automatically become best friends, but he had hoped to see Merlin more. Between Merlin’s volunteering at a local youth clinic (because he was as caring and considerate as he was as a kid) and Arthur’s part-time job at Camelot’s court house, they didn’t have a lot of time to themselves. However, Merlin did find himself invited to the end of the week celebrations. Although Arthur would have liked to spend one-on-one sober time with Merlin, he wasn’t complaining about being with Merlin or that Merlin got along with his mates.

On one particular Saturday night, he was pleasantly surprised to see Merlin at Gwaine’s celebration of completing mid-term exams. Although Merlin looked like he had barely slept all week, he looked elated to not be studying in the library.

Merlin had barely arrived when Gwaine started flirting with Merlin. He smacked a kiss on Merlin’s cheek and told him he was the prettiest star in the sky. It was typical behavior from Gwaine (the same treatment had been given to pretty much everyone in the group). It didn’t matter though. Arthur still could feel his heart tighten in his chest as he watched Merlin flirt back. His celebratory and happy mood turned sour and Arthur left the room to grab his second beer.

He was rummaging through the cooler for another beer when Lance showed up.

“Got another stout in there?” He asked, setting his own empty bottle on the counter.

“Here” Arthur slid one over to Lance, picking up his own beer.

“You alright?” Lance asked, cracking open his bottle and handing the bottle opener to Arthur.

“Fine” Arthur said. “Just hate when Gwaine does that.”

“He’s just messing around,” Lance said. “He smacked your ass last week.”

The memory was fairly funny. They had been playing football at the park and Gwaine had smacked his ass (rather harder than any ‘go get ‘em mate’ kind of encouragement) and winked. It didn’t make him feel any better though.

Lance was looking at him with the ‘Look, I know. You know. Don’t play dumb. I don’t have time for this shit.’ kind of expression. He leaned against the counter, as if waiting for Arthur to say something.

“What?”

Lance sighed, “Merlin.”

“What about him?” Arthur took a drink of his beer.

“You’re going to make me drag it out of you, aren’t you?”

“Yes” Arthur said, because he was stubborn ass when he wanted to be.

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose, “So if someone, I don’t know… Laid down a hundred quid for you to snog Merlin? Would you do it?

Arthur snorted, “Don’t be ridiculous, have you seen him? I would _pay_ a hundred quid to snog Merlin.”

Lance snorted. “That’s what I thought.”

Arthur was already regretting his decision to confide in Lance, who would surely make him do something stupid like ‘confess his feelings’ but then, Lance’s eyes drifted to somewhere behind Arthur’s shoulder. That was when Arthur was certain that he regretted it. He turned around, confirming his suspicions when he saw Merlin, empty beer in hand, and an astonished expression plastered across his face.

“Oh.” Merlin said.

“Shit.” Arthur covered his face. “Lance, you wanker, you did that on purpose.”

“I wanted you to admit that you fancied Merlin but that,” he pointed to Merlin standing in the doorway, “was a happy accident.”

Lance walked out the kitchen, with his newly acquired beer and satisfaction, patting Merlin on the shoulder on his way out.

“Fucking hell,” Arthur rubbed his hands over his face, not even close to tipsy enough to not be embarrassed.

“A hundred quid, huh? You could contribute to my med-school payments.” When Arthur looked up, Merlin was grinning, obviously teasing.

“Shut up” Arthur groaned.

“No really, I’m dirt poor. This could work in my favor.” Merlin said, “Though I do prefer to snog people for free.”

Arthur felt the heat rise in his neck, “I was just…kidding?”

Merlin leaned against the counter, looking at Arthur with a raised brow. “You know, I thought you didn’t like that I was queer.”

“What?” Arthur’s voice skyrocketed.

“Yeah, when I mentioned being bi, you got this really offended look on your face.”

“I did not!”

“It’s because of Gwaine, isn’t it?”

Arthur grumbled. Merlin smiled like the cat that got the cream.

“Fine. It was because of Gwaine.” Arthur admitted. “But I’m not homophobic. I’m gay. Very, very gay. Gwaine can attest: He says I’m gayer than a unicorn and it’s so much that people just think I’m straight.”

Merlin was obviously holding in his giggles, because his lips were drawn tight over his lips and his eyes were half-closed with amusement.

“Alright, laugh it up.” Arthur groused.

“It explains a lot.” Merlin tapped his finger to his lips, thoroughly distracting Arthur for a few seconds. “The way you acted at the pub when we met again? You were trying to pull me, weren’t you?”

“Yeah” Arthur admitted, looking up at the ceiling. “You are kind of…exactly my type.”

“Really?” Merlin touched Arthur’s arm, his fingers running up and down the hair there, making it stand on end. “You know, I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids.”

“You did not” Arthur said, gob smacked.

“I really did,” It was Merlin’s turn to look embarrassed. “You were the older boy, the coolest kid around, who took a liking to a scrawny dorky me. I thought you were brash and brave. When I was a teenager mum told me that I thought ‘Arthur hung the moon and the stars.’”

Arthur felt his lips turn upwards, trying not to look as delighted as he felt.

“I really would pay a hundred quid, just for the chance to kiss you.” Arthur said, quietly, hoping his meaning came across.

“I don’t want a hundred quid.” Merlin’s voice was soft and his eyes were steady on Arthur.

Arthur leaned close so that his nose skimmed Merlin’s. Barely an inch away, Arthur whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

Merlin closed his eyes and leaned in. Merlin’s kisses were like honey, he slowly and sweetly captured Arthur’s mouth in little kisses. Arthur turned and leaned his body against Merlin’s, pressing him into the kitchen counter. Merlin’s fingers ran through Arthur’s hair, making him shiver against Merlin’s lips.

They broke away, lips red and eyes blown wide.

“I changed my mind, I want a hundred quid” Merlin looked up, eyes like crescent moons.

“Shut up, you berk.” Arthur smiled.

“No really. But I want it in the form of dates. How many dates do you think you could pay for with a hundred quid?”

“Depends on the dates.” Arthur’s entire body felt warm, and he tried not to smile like a loon.

“Hm. I think a few at least. But mind, every kiss is a hundred quid you owe me.” Merlin held Arthur’s jaw in his hands, kissing him once, twice, until Arthur lost track.

“How much was that?” Merlin pulled back, sounding more out of breath than before.

 “I don’t really care, I’ll pay.” Arthur admitted and then pulled Merlin in again.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP being asked if they would kiss Person B for $100.00. They respond, “I would pay $100.00 to kiss Person B.” Bonus points if Person B overhears this.
> 
> Do I get bonus points?


End file.
